


Original Story Ideas/Fanfic Shorts

by ISeeFire



Category: Original Work
Genre: Au’s, Awkwardness, Coffee Shop, College, Drabbles, F/M, Fantasy, Female Bilba, Fiction, Fili/Bilba - Freeform, First Meeting, Fix It, It's A Wonderful Life AU, Mermaids, Modern AU, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Pirates, Restaurants, Romance, Shifters, Waiters/Waitress, Werewolves, ideas, meet cute, writing prompts, young adult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 05:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20204323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ISeeFire/pseuds/ISeeFire
Summary: What it says on the tin - responses to writing prompts, ideas that pop in my head, original story ideas not based on Tolkien (aka. my jam :D). Will pretty much all be romance, and mostly fantasy cause that's also my jam. These are first posted to my Tumblr: https://d3-iseefire.tumblr.com/Mostly just for fun and to practice writing but if one happened to get a lot of interest I might try expanding it into a full length work. We shall see! :D





	1. Dream Guy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StrictlyNoFrills](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrictlyNoFrills/gifts), [Cinthia988](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinthia988/gifts).

> This first drabble was taken from a prompt idea provided by WritingPrompt.com - https://twitter.com/DailyPrompt
> 
> The prompt was "How many people deed to die before the government takes action?" she screamed. (I tweaked it a bit to fit the story I had in mind).

Allison loved her job**. **Specifically, she loved Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at roughly 10:30 a.m. give or take ten or fifteen minutes. 

That was when the door of the university’s tiny coffee shop opened and Dream Guy walked through the door. 

Seriously, he was _perfect_. Tall, athletic, dark hair, blue eyes (her new favorite color), well dressed _and_ he was _nice_. He had a smile that made her heart skip a beat and a deep voice that vibrated right through her and…

“I bet he never changes his underwear.”

Allison froze in the process of pulling a chair down for one of the cafe’s four round tables to turn and gape at her colleague and, up to this exact second, best friend, Brooke. “Excuse me?”

Brooke raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “We both know you were thinking about Mr. Dreamy just now.” She yanked down the chair that Allison had been just about to get to, and headed behind the counter to start setting up the equipment needed to provide caffeine to the perpetually sleep deprived student population. “No one’s perfect, so I was trying to think of what his faults might be.” Her expression turned mock serious and her eyes widened. “Dirty underwear.”

“He does not have dirty underwear,” Allison said, with a scowl. “You’ve seen how he dresses.” Jeans, layered shirts, three quarter sleeves that showed off his forearms (dear lord, how had she not realized how much she loved three quarter sleeves on a man before this?).

“Have you seen them?” Brooke asked. She grabbed the cords of the nearest blinds and pulled them up, causing Allison to wince as bright light flooded the dim room. 

Brooke’s words penetrated and Allison’s face went hot. “Of course not,” she spluttered. 

She hadn’t even_ talked_ to him yet. She certainly _wanted_ to talk to him. She psyched herself up to talk to him three times a week. _Brooke_ psyched her up to talk to him three times a week. Then he’d walk in through the door, and Allison’s brain and body would literally shut down and she’d stand there like an idiot while Brooke took his order and gave him his coffee.

She didn’t even know his name because _Brooke_ refused to tell her. She claimed it was incentive for Allison to buck up and ask him herself. Allison had simply countered by nicknaming him Dream Guy so…there. 

“So,” Brooke grabbed the keys to the front doors, where they could already see a line of half-awake students lining up outside, “are you going to talk to him today or what?”

Allison gave a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know. He’s probably got a girlfriend anyway.”

“He doesn’t,” Brooke said in a sing-song voice. “I asked him.”

Allison made a strangled sound. “You _asked_ him?” 

“Well, yeah,” Brooke said, rolling her eyes. “How else was I supposed to find out if you had a chance?”

“Just because he’s single doesn’t mean I have a chance,” Allison muttered. She tried valiantly to ignore the way her heart had leapt at the news. She did not want false hope. False hope led to broken hearts. “Maybe you should ask him out. You seem to have an easier time talking to him.”

She regretted the words immediately but it was too late to take them back. Brooke was tall and statuesque with dark hair and hazel eyes. Allison always imagined her as an Amazonian warrior or a badass superhero.

Allison, in contrast, was petite with auburn hair that tended to panic and frizz at the mention of heat or humidity, and gray eyes that were interesting enough but usually masked by her glasses. 

Guys always went for Brooke, and that had never been a problem before. Not even when one idiot had made the comment that Allison was the ugly girl the pretty girls used to deflect unwanted male attention. He’d made the mistake of saying it within Brooke’s hearing. She’d punched him, and told Allison not to listen to idiots. 

Easy to say, much harder to do. The words tended to run through her mind at the most inconvenient times, like now when she realized Brooke probably knew so much about Dream Guy because he was interested in her. 

Brooke let out a disgusted breath. She and Allison had been friends since they were six, and it often felt like they could each read the other person’s mind. Sometimes it was fun, other times, not so much. 

“One, he’s not my type. Two, it’s been a month,” Brooke said firmly. “One month, and not even a full month because he only comes in three times a week.” She paused long enough to grab Allison’s shoulders and give her a small shake. “Carpe Diem, Woman. Seize the man.”

Brooke released her and continued on toward the door, leaving Allison standing in confusion behind her. 

“I don’t think that’s what that means,” she finally managed to get out as the other girl shoved the key into the lock. 

Brooke grinned over her shoulder and, with a flourish, snapped the second lock open. “It is now.”

Allison frowned. She was pretty sure that wasn’t how…anything worked, but there was no time to think any further on it as Brooke flung the doors open and a flood of students began to rush in. 

Time to get to work. 

***

Allison shot a nervous look at the clock, convinced at least an hour had passed and Dream Guy wasn’t coming. Instead the clock proudly proclaimed it to be 10:30, exactly five minutes since the last time she’d checked. 

“I’m surprised you managed to wait that long between checks,” Brooke said airily as she breezed past to deliver drinks to one of the tables. 

“No one asked you, Brooke,” Allison grumbled in mock anger. The trash bag she was trying to change finally gave up and allowed her to yank it out. She gave a small cry of triumph, and proceeded to change it for a new one and tie the old one up. 

She started to lift the full bag, planning to take it to the trash bins outside, only to pause as Brooke was suddenly blocking her path. “Here,” she said, putting her hands out. “I’ll take it.”

Allison blinked in surprise. “What?”

Brooke grabbed the bag and tugged it away with a bright grin. “I’ll take it,” she repeated. “You go take the register until I get back.”

Allison’s frown deepened. She hated the register. She was painfully shy and had a hard time interacting with people. Brooke, in contrast, loved talking to people but hated having to clean up. They had a system, Allison cleaned, Brooke ran the register and they both made coffee. It worked. It was perfect. It was–

Understanding set in and her eyes went wide with panic. “Don’t you dare,” she hissed. “Brooke.”

Her friend simply smiled, turned and proceeded to damn near skip toward the door leading outside. 

“Brooke.” Allison hissed again, desperately. “Brooke!”

The other girl vanished through the door, and Allison already knew she was probably going to turn a thirty second trip into one of several minutes or more. Too long for Allison to be able to get away with ignoring the register or anyone already waiting there. 

Please don’t be anyone waiting there. 

Her heart thundering in her chest, Allison slowly turned to face the register. A young woman she recognized as Kat, one of her regulars, was standing just before it. Behind her was a young man who, from his clear excitement at being in a cafe on _campus_, was probably an incoming freshman. 

Behind him was an older woman and her teenage daughter, probably there on a campus tour, and behind _them_…was Dream Guy. 

Oh god. 

He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and was holding the strap with a hand while the other held his phone. He had his headphones in and had a slight smile on his face as he focused on whatever he was watching on his phone. 

Kat cleared her throat and lightly tapped her fingers on the counter which caused Allison to jump in surprise. Crap, she’d been gawking hadn’t she? Way to be a creeper, Allison. 

She forced herself to take a deep breath, pasted on a smile and tried to mimic Brooke’s walk as she went to the register. She thought she did a pretty good job considering her hips didn’t behave at all like how Brooke’s did. 

With Brooke apparently taking the trash to the next county, Allison had to take the orders and make the coffee as well. She got through the first one quickly enough, as the girl had come in often enough for Allison to have memorized her order. 

“Here you go,” she said with a smile. Her hand didn’t shake at all as she handed it over and she privately patted herself on the back. 

She served the young man after that, and then the mother and her daughter. All the while she did her very best to not stare at Dream Guy who was now so close she could almost reach out and touch him. 

Several times she saw him shift as if he were about to look up but she quickly jerked her eyes away so as to not be caught staring at him. 

She handed the teenage girl her drink and then the second one to the mother. As she did, the woman patted her on the hand and, in a conspiratorial tone, said, “you’ll do fine, dear. Just be yourself.”

Heat flooded Allison’s face and she desperately hoped she hadn’t been as blatantly obvious to Dream Guy as she’d apparently been to the woman. 

Then it didn’t matter as the two moved away, and Allison was face to face with Dream Guy. 

Oh god. 

Her heart was hammering so hard in her chest it was a wonder he couldn’t hear it, and her muscles were wound so tight she was surprised she didn’t spontaneously pull something. 

Dream Guy tugged his earbuds out and slid his phone into his back pocket. “Hey Allison, how’s it going?”

Allison’s eyes went wide and her fingers spasmed near her sides. Dream Guy knew her name?

Dream. Guy. Knew. Her. Name??

She was going to kill Brooke, or possibly hug her. It was a toss up at this point.

“So, um.” Dream Guy ran a hand through his hair, which was simply adorable. “I’ll just have the usual I guess.”

Allison almost laughed in relief. That she could do. If there was one thing she knew it was what Dream Guy ordered. There was also the fact that it was a simple medium black coffee so it wasn’t exactly hard to remember. 

Grinning in a way she hoped didn’t look unbalanced, she grabbed a cup and a sharpie, forced herself to breathe and asked, “and what name should I put down?”

There, hopefully that would sound vague enough to not let on that she didn’t know his name. Like fun and…flirty, maybe? Oh, hee hee, what name should I put down?

Yeah, that sounded…terrible. Dream Guy must think she was a total idiot. 

Resigned, she forced herself to raise her eyes, only to see him fighting back a smile. “Aaron.”

Aaron. His name was Aaron. It was freaking _perfect_. They’d be Allison and Aaron and they could make it a whole thing and name their kids A names like Alice and Alex and Andrew and…whatever other names started with the letter A.

She was simply standing there staring at him wasn’t she? Yes, yes she was. 

With a nervous grin, she wrote on the cup while doing her best to not stare at him and not-not stare at him and just…be normal. 

A hand appeared in her face and Allison jumped as Brooke’s voice spoke right next to her ear. “Here, I’ll get that for you.”

Allison was not impressed with Brooke’s sudden reappearance but she obediently handed the cup over, and then smiled at Dream Gu – Aaron. She smiled at Aaron. 

She gave him the price in what she hoped was a sultry voice and not her normal voice that sounded like puberty had skipped right over her, and then bemoaned the fact that they had a card reader he could slide his card through. If only it was still the old days where cash had to be exchanged and their fingers might touch and – oh, look, here was the receipt printing out. 

She had forgotten about the receipt. 

Bless the person who’d invented receipts. Bless them. 

She ripped it off the tape and held it out to him with a tremulous smile. “Receipt?”

“No thanks.” He had his earbuds back in and was already pulling his phone back out, but he did pause to look her in the eyes as he said it. 

Baby steps, Allison told herself firmly even as she suddenly found herself craving ice cream and her playlist of Adele’s top hits. 

It wasn’t the end of the world. She’d actually managed to _speak_ to him, and he knew her _name_ and she knew his and she was totally not going to spend her next class writing it in her notebook like she was still in high school. Ha, no, she’d never do that. 

Honest. 

Brooke handed over his drink a few minutes later and Allison bit back a sigh as he went to the second, smaller counter where the sugar and creamer sat. 

It was a daily tragedy. In another few seconds he’d leave and she’d have to wait until tomorrow to do this all over again. In the meantime, Aaron would probably go to classes where girls with crushes of their own would have a far better chance at talking to him and – and – and why was Brooke staring at her like that?

As if realizing Allison was now paying attention, Brooke sidled up to her and threw an arm across her shoulders. “Girl, I am impressed. I did not think you had it in you.”

“I didn’t either,” Allison responded with a nervous grin. “I actually talked to him!”

Brooke’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Talked to him? I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about what you wrote on his cup. Bold. Very bold. I must be rubbing off on you, finally.”

“Wrote on his cup?” Allison repeated blankly. “I wrote his name on the cup.”

Brooke chuckled. “Sure, if his name is Dream Guy.”

“What?” Allison asked. She ran Brooke’s words through her mind again, and again after that desperately hoping they would somehow magically transform into something else. Anything else. 

She tried to think back to when she’d been holding the cup in one hand and the sharpie in the other. What had she written? It had been his name, right? Surely, it had been his name. 

Her eyes went to where Aaron was still standing at the second counter, shaking packets of sugar into his cup. Suddenly, without her input at all, her body was moving, around the counter and straight toward Aaron. 

He’d put the lid back on the cup and was just lifting it to his lips when Allison reached him, and proceeded to smack it out of his hand and straight into the trash can he was conveniently standing over. 

Dead silence fell in the cafe and Allison could almost physically feel everyone’s eyes on her. Including Aaron’s which were wide and fixed on her with surprise and confusion and managing to convey the emotion of “what the hell, woman,” exceptionally well. 

“Oh, my god!” Allison blurted. “How many people need to die before the government takes action?“ 

Aaron’s eyebrows narrowed in even greater confusion. “What?”

“The sugar!” Allison cried, thinking fast. She was really, really bad at thinking fast. She frantically grabbed the small, glass container of sugar packets and held it up. “It’s expired!” 

He started to speak and Allison cringed, desperately hoping he wasn’t some sort of weird sugar expert…or just someone who was going to question her on whether or not sugar expired. She…didn’t actually know…but it sounded good, kind of?

“Expired sugar kills people?” he asked blankly. 

“Does the government get involved in the sugar industry?” Brooke asked from behind her. She sounded super chipper, too chipper. She was clearly enjoying this. 

“Shut up, Brooke!” Her voice just on the very edge of hysterical, Allison spun and shoved the container into Brooke’s hands. “We should replace this! Right now! Before anyone else is endangered!”

As she spoke, she prayed that no one else in the immediate vicinity had used sugar yet. They’d get a run on the cafe, and complaints even and then she’d probably get fired and wouldn’t that just be a grand end to her day? She was already going to have to change her hair color and get colored contacts just to be able to show her face in public again. 

“Sorry,” she said to Aaron. She laughed shakily and wondered if perhaps she could pass off the heat in her face as a really bad sunburn…that she’d just gotten in the last thirty seconds. “Let me make you a new one, with non-expired sugar.”

“All right.” He was openly smiling now and easily followed her back to the counter where Brooke was waiting with a new cup of coffee. As Allison took it she noticed the name Aaron written prominently on the side. 

She loved Brooke. Really, she did. She was an awesome friend. 

She spun around to hand it to Aaron with a smile. “Here you go. A brand new, fresh cup.”

“Thanks.” He started to say something but, before he could Allison felt a container being pushed into her hands and she whipped them forward to present to him. “And fresh sugar!”

“Awesome.” He grabbed a few packets and shoved them into his pocket before hesitating. His eyes flickered toward her and away again and he cleared his throat. 

Allison tensed. Oh, this was it wasn’t it? He was going to complain and she was so going to be fired and then she’d have no job and not get to see Dream Guy again to boot. 

“I was wondering,” Aaron said slowly, “if you might like to get dinner sometime…I mean…if you’re free.”

Huh, Allison thought. She appeared to have died and entered into some sort of paradise where her every wish was granted. How odd. She’d have thought she’d notice something like dying, but apparently not. 

Aaron grimaced, and his hand tightened on his cup. “Yeah, that was probably a bad move,” he mumbled. “Sorry. I’ll just be…” he vaguely indicated the door and started to turn. 

“Wait!” Allison almost lunged forward to grab his arm, took a second to appreciate the feel of said arm under her hand, and tugged on him to get him to stop. “Did you just invite me out to dinner?”

“Yes?” He looked hopeful, but still nervous. 

“Really?” Allison repeated in disbelief. “You’re sure you meant to ask me? Not Brooke?”

“For the love of pizza, do I have to do everything?” Brooke marched past her and thrust a phone in Aaron’s face. A phone with a pink, rhinestone studded case. Brooke’s phone case was silver, which meant –

“Yes, she wants to go out with you,” Brooke said shortly. “She’s just shy and kind of socially awkward. Put your number in her phone. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Aaron took the phone to put his number in her contacts and Allison held perfectly still in the off chance that this was all a dream and any wrong move would cause her to wake up. 

“Here you go.” Aaron started to hand the phone to her, but Brooke grabbed it and quickly typed in a text. A second later, Aaron’s phone dinged. 

“There you go,” Brooke said happily. “Now you both have each other’s numbers.”

“Great.” Aaron raised his cup in a semblance of a salute. “I’ve got to get to class but I’ll text you later to work out the details, okay?”

Allison nodded dumbly. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” Aaron gave her a shy smile and, oh, god, he was_ shy_ and then awkwardly turned and left the cafe. 

“Did that just happen?” Allison asked in a trance. “Or was it just a dream?”

“It happened,” Brooke said, clapping her on the shoulder. “Now we just have to go shopping after shift is over to get you a good first date outfit.”

Allison let out a short squeal, clapped her hands over her mouth and then flung her arms around Brooke’s neck. “I love you!”

“yeah, yeah.” Brooke hugged her back. “You can name your first child after me.”

“Can’t,” Allison said happily, pulling back. “They have to all be A names, to be alliterative.”

“Yeah? Huh.” Brooke looked at the phone screen in her hand and then gave it to Allison. “That’s weird, because the name he put in doesn’t star with an A.”

“It doesn’t?” Allison took the phone and looked down. There, splashed across the top of the screen was her new contact and, at the top of it, the name he’d entered in. 

_Dream Guy_.


	2. Fathoms Apart (the Original Remix)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Prompt Taken From WritingPrompt.com: https://twitter.com/DailyPrompt
> 
> Prompt: You’re the only one who sees the robber’s face and you recognize each other.
> 
> (This prompt idea is an original story variation based loosely off a fanfic idea I have called Fathoms Apart. You can see that one if you want (just an idea, not a full story)here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1207729/chapters/14344504

Sera huddled in the corner of the tank, arms wrapped around her tail and head down. 

She couldn’t believe how stupid she’d been. 

_You’re too reckless_, her father’s voice rang in her ears. _You’ll find yourself in over your head one day if you’re not careful. _

She’d always scoffed at him and rolled her eyes behind his back. She was seventeen after all, practically an adult and she knew what she was doing. She could handle herself. 

That’s what she’d used to think anyway. 

She raised her head, and promptly burst into a fresh wave of tears at the sight of the glass walls surrounding her. The water they’d dumped her in was pristine, but almost painfully empty. No gentle currents to push her back and forth, no fish zipping about, no near buzz in the water signaling the closeness of other mermen and women. 

Nothing. 

She’d never felt water so utterly dead. 

Her tail, usually a mass of vibrant gold and silver scales was faded and dull and the ebony mane that passed for her hair hung limp about her head. 

She would die in here. 

Already, she could feel the gnawing hunger in her gut as her stomach protested a lack of food. Her limbs were shaking, and weak and she felt achy and tired as if ill with a cold. 

Her captors had tried to make her eat, dumping all manner of fish into the tank, but the mere sight of it made her want to throw up. She’d done little but cry since being locked in here, and had no intention of stopping any time soon. 

Mermaids were not made for captivity. 

Her captors didn’t care. She’d heard them talking about it, saying that once she died they’d simply put her corpse on display and garner just as much interest. That it’d actually be easier to have her dead, more cost effective in the long run. 

As if they needed to worry about cost. 

The barest flicker of movement caught her eye through the glass and she turned dull eyes in that direction, wondering what fresh torment they had planned for her. 

The tank had been placed in what she privately referred to as the ego room, showcasing weapons and furniture and other things encrusted with gold and jewels and all manner of pretentiousness. During the day people were marched through, some clearly wealthy, others not, to marvel and exclaim over how magnificent it all was. 

When they saw her their eyes would bug out and they’d rush over, banging on the glass and shouting to try and get her to do tricks like some sort of trained dolphin. She’d ignored them thus far, choosing to stay curled in her corner. She’d been threatened over it but, really, what more could they do to her?

At night everyone would leave and the lights would be shut off, leaving her alone until the next day when it would start all over again.

It was night now, meaning she should be alone and yet here was the dull flicker of a wraith light moving among the pedestals. 

Sera watched it a moment or two, and then buried her face in her arms again. She didn’t care anymore. Let them do whatever it was they wanted and then go away and leave her alone. 

The darkness over her closed eyelids brightened and she tensed, tightening her arms about her tail. She hated this. She wanted to go home. Why couldn’t they just let her go home?

A light tap sounded on the glass. 

Sera flinched and burrowed deeper into her arms. Go away, she thought desperately. Just leave me alone. 

A second, equally light tap on the glass. It was different than the usual. She’d grown used to the harsh banging, the sounds of shouting as people demanded her attention. 

This was just the lightest of taps, polite almost, and then silence as whoever it was waited for her to respond. 

She didn’t really know why she did. Perhaps she just thought that, if she gave them what they wanted, they’d finally leave her in her misery. Or perhaps somewhere, in some deep, almost forgotten recess of her mind there was still the smallest, bit of hope that stubbornly refused to die. 

She turned her head so it was still resting on her arms, and opened her eyes. For a few seconds the light blinded her and she squinted, struggling to see past it. Then whoever was holding it moved it lower, and she blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted. 

There was a man standing on the other side of the glass. He was tall and powerfully built, and dressed in breeches, cavalier boots, a loose fitting shirt and vest. There was a cutlass and a pistol strapped to his waist. 

He looked like a pirate she thought absently. Then she raised her eyes to see a young man a few years older than her with dark brown hair tied back in a low ponytail and vibrant green eyes and a bolt of pure electricity ran right through her. 

She _knew_ him. 

Or, at least she knew him as far as any mermaid could know, or should know, a human. His ship wandered the waters near her home and Sera often liked to play in the wake left by its passing. 

Had…had liked to play. 

It wasn’t unusual for Mermaids, and even some Mermen, to play in the wakes of passing ships but most weren’t particular about the ship, and they did it at night when they wouldn’t be seen. 

Sera had found she liked the wake from this man’s ship. She wasn’t sure why, she just did. She had tried to stick to just playing at night, but he didn’t always come at night, so eventually she’d started going during the day as well. This man, along with an older one she assumed was his father, and a few others always appeared at the railing to watch her. 

He always stayed the longest, even after all the others had left to return to work. She’d waved at him a few times and he’d waved back but she’d never spoken to him. 

The young man moved away from the tank and Sera moved so she could press her hands against the glass to watch him go. He was a thread, a tiny glimpse of all that she’d lost and it felt like something inside her was tearing, bit by bit, with every step he took away. 

He vanished, taking the light with him, and she crumpled to the bottom of the tank, forehead resting against the glass. Her hands slid down slowly and she stared dully at the opposite wall of the tank. It was so cramped she couldn’t stretch her tail out to full length, and so short she’d hit her heat if she tried to push up more than a few feet. 

She’d watched the humans dealing with their dead a time or two on land. They put them in boxes, narrow, confined things and then buried them in the ground. That’s what this felt like, as if the humans had put her in a box and buried her.

An unearthly white light fell over her once again and she raised her head in surprise. The pirate was back, and he had two other men with them. One carried the wraith light while the other carried the small stepladder her captors used to dump unwanted food into the tank. 

The ladder was set on the floor and then her pirate easily leapt up it. Sera watched in confusion as he produced a key and unlocked the heavy padlock keeping the lid of her tank shut. Then he was sliding it off and carefully handing it to the two men who’d come with him. They carried it a few feet away and knelt, setting it gingerly on the floor. 

A light tapping on the glass drew her attention up to the young man on the ladder and she saw that he’d reached his hand into the water toward her. Given how small the tank was, he could have simply grabbed her had he chose, but he was reaching instead…asking. 

What was he doing? 

Sera hesitated. The last human she’d trusted…the only human she’d ever trusted…had betrayed her in the worst way, had taken everything from her. 

_So what do you have to lose?_

The words passed through her mind unbidden. Sera steeled herself, and then reached upward. 

His hand closed around hers, fingers sliding along the fine bones of her wrist, and pulled. She followed obediently and, a few seconds later, her head broke the surface of the water. Cold air surrounded her and she shivered, but ignored it as her eyes locked on the young man. 

“I was wondering where you’d gone,” he said. “How the hell did you wind up here?”

Sera didn’t entirely know what she’d expected from him, but it hadn’t been that. The same treatment she’d received from the other humans perhaps, or the rejection she’d get from her people if she dared return after being contaminated through contact with land dwellers…anything like that perhaps, but not this. 

Not kindness, and in the face of it she responded the only way a scared, teenage girl could respond. She burst into tears. She then slid her arms around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder, inhaling the scent of the sea, tar and everything she’d barely noticed, or cared about, until they were gone. 

One of his arms came around her back, but only for a quick moment before he was gently disentangling himself. Sera gripped the edge of the tank, the cold metal cutting into her fingers. 

He cupped the side of her face in one hand and Sera couldn’t help pressing into it. She hadn’t touched a living creature, or been touched in return, in what felt forever and was startled at just how starved for physical contact she was. 

“The prince had a party on a ship,” she managed to get out. “I thought the lights were pretty so I went closer and he saw me–” here her voice wavered and she had to pause to try and get her breathing under control lest she break down again. “I thought he was nice,” she finally said, her voice barely a whisper.

Like you, she thought.

“Turned your head did he?” he asked softly. His eyes went unfocused, looking off in the distance at some unseen point, before he refocused on her, sighed, and said, “All right, come on then.”

He pulled her arms back around his neck and bent forward to wrap his arms around her upper body. Sera started in surprise, but didn’t resist as he, awkwardly, pulled her out of the tank. 

He jumped off the ladder and she tensed, convinced he was about to drop her. Instead he landed easily on the floor, with her held securely in his arms. 

“What do you say we get you back in the water?” he asked. “I’ve missed watching you.” His eyes narrowed. “That sounded weird, didn’t it?”

The words elicited a surprised, almost laugh from Sera, the first since this entire ordeal had started. Then the rest of his words permeated and her vision blurred. She did want to go home, even if home would no longer want her. 

“We should get moving” one of the other men who’d come in with him said in a low voice. “The missing guard won’t go unnoticed for long.”

Her pirate grinned at her. “You ready to get out of here?”

Sera gave a hesitant nod. She didn’t know if he truly planned to let her go once they reached the ocean again, but it was better than staying here. She tightened her grip around his neck and settled more firmly against him. 

Her rescuer, hopefully, nodded toward the others. “All right, let’s get out of here.”

“What about your share of the treasure?” one of the men asked. For the first time, Sera noticed that both men held sacks over their shoulders, and a check around the room revealed many of the treasures were missing from their cases and pedestals. 

The young man holding her, whose name she still needed to get she realized, grinned even broader and tightened his grip on her. “Pretty sure I’ve already got my share, gentlemen.”

Sera felt her face heat and slid the hand she had on his chest back up to link around his neck again. Maybe…just maybe, things were looking up. Maybe. 

One thing she did know for a fact, however, was that if that prince ever showed his face on the water she was going to sing his ship right onto a sandbar.


	3. Werewolf Shifter AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't had any time to write full length updates in awhile (hopefully soon!) but I WANNA WRITE so I've decided to start doing Writing Wednesdays on Tumblr where people send me prompts and I will do one at a time. This is the first one - I was asked for a shifter AU. I have one for next week lined up but feel free to send me prompts and I'll put them in line. I don't promise to get to them fast, but I will get to them! In the meantime, my tiny heart is happy with getting to at least write something! :)
> 
> Prompt Request From: Cinthia988 - https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinthia988

Bilba tried to make it to the end of class, she really did. It was her last class of the day. All she had to do was get through, meet everyone in the parking lot and go home.

She _tried_.

Even as the professor’s words lost their meaning and faded to a dull drone, even as the nausea got so bad she was afraid to move lest she embarrass herself in front of the entire class.

Her seat was on the bottom row of the amphitheater, a fact that had never bothered her before today. Now, suddenly, she was painfully aware of an entire classroom full of people _behind _her, surrounding her on all sides, able to see her when she couldn’t see them in return. 

Her breathing was rapid, and shallow, and her heart was racing in her chest. Black spots danced in her vision and her fingers beat a rapid, staccato beat on the desktop.

It’s okay, she told herself firmly. You’re okay. Just relax. Just relax, it’s fine.

Her vision blurred and she resisted the urge to pull at the collar of her shirt as sudden heat washed over her.

_Bilba? _The voice in her head caused her to jump in her desk, gaining her a look of disapproval from the professor. _Are you all right?_

Kili. He was all the way in the back of the class, on the top tier. For him to have noticed something wrong…

_I need to leave, _she said tightly. _I need to go._

_All right, _he sent back. _Give me a second and –_

Bilba shook her head and, suddenly, just like that, she needed to _go_.

She was out of her seat before she’d even registered it, standing up so fast she sent her chair clattering to the floor behind her.

Dimly, she was aware of the professor speaking to her, of Kili in her head, but it was all just nonsense, barely audible through the screaming in her mind.

_RUN. _

She ran.

Her hands hit the bar of the door and she shoved it open hard enough to send it crashing against the opposite wall.

Then she was outside where the sky was just beginning to dim and a light fog had moved in over the grounds. There was a noticeable chill to the air that brought with it the scent of the trees and earth and _outside_.

The barest, _barest _hint of rationality tried to thread its way in, but Bilba was too far gone for it to reach. She lengthened her stride from fast to nearly unnatural. It would draw attention, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Just past the library, she could see the line of trees that marked the beginning of the forest the university had been built next to. It was why they’d chosen this place to begin with, the ability to have the woods right there, practically at their beck and call.

As much as the wild could be at anyone’s beck and call.

She passed the first row of trees and the change came on almost without her noticing. One minute she was running, mentally chafing as her spirit literally tried to outrun her body, and the next she was _changing_. Fur, the same dark auburn as her hair sprang out along her arms and legs. Her limbs lengthened, and the gloom of the forest vanished as her human vision gave way to eyes that could see in the dark.

A nearly hysterical laugh turned into a howl as four legs took the place of two, the cold vanished under thick fur, and then she was _running_.

She gave no thought to where she was going, only to how fast she could get there. The landscape rushed past her in a blur as she darted between trees and boulders and leapt over streams.

It felt like ages before her energy began to wind down, and her senses started to return. She didn’t slow, however, because it was only then that she realized she had a shadow.

She could see him, flickering in and out among the trees, duplicating her movements.

_Go away,_ she ordered. Her nerves were still on edge. She could still feel panic bubbling just under the surface of her skin. She wanted to be left _alone_.

_Better idea_, he returned. _How about you stop running?_

Bilba’s only response was to run faster.

She hit the base of a rocky slope and scrambled up it. At the top she finally paused at the sight of a large, open clearing, filled with thick grass and dotted with flowers. Insects buzzed merrily about and birdsong rang from where the treeline started up again on the far side.

For the first time since all of this had started a feeling of peace swept over her. Her muscles began to relax and Bilba sagged in relief as her heart began to slow. Her legs were trembling from exertion and her sides heaved as she panted for air. It took a lot to tire out a werewolf, just how far had she run?

She spotted an outcropping of rock forming a natural, shallow cave, and headed toward it. She could curl up in a ball there and no one and nothing could touch her. She could rest.

The fur on her neck rose and she tensed at the feeling of a presence behind her. She spun, growl at the ready, and paused at the sight of a massive, coal black wolf cresting the slope behind her.

_Go away_, she ordered. She spun back around, but had barely taken two steps when she found her way blocked by the black wolf towering over her.

_Get out of my way, _she demanded, baring her teeth.

_Enough_, he retorted. _You’ve been running all night._

She had not. It – she looked around and, for the first time noticed it wa_s_ getting _lighter _rather than darker as it had been the last time she’d been aware.

Had she really run all night?

She shook her head and tried to move past him again, only to jump back in surprise as he jumped forward and snapped his teeth at her. _Damn it, Bilba. I said stop. _

He must have somehow read the hurt on her face because she heard him sigh in her mind. He stepped away and then his body was shifting, and elongating. Fur vanished, four feet became two arms and two legs and then the wolf was gone and it was Fili standing in front of her, looking down.

The wolf in her reacted and Bilba lunged at him. He hit the ground on his back and she straddled him, baring her teeth near the hollow of his throat. He tilted his chin back, exposing his neck, and reached up a hand to lightly stroke along the side of her head and ear. “Hey, it’s all right.”

Bilba flinched and pulled back.

What was she _doing_?

She shifted, forcibly pushing the wolf away, and then she was straddling her husband in the middle of the forest wearing nothing but her bra and underwear.

Bilba gaped down at her body.

They were taught as children, _children_, how to retain their clothing during shifts. She hadn’t lost so much as a shoe in _years_ and now she’d lost almost her entire outfit?

Damn it, that had been her favorite shirt.

“Come on.” Fili moved, and she didn’t resist as he nudged her back and repositioned them so he was sitting up and she was straddling his legs. “Hey, are you all right?”

When she didn’t answer, he shrugged out of the button down plaid he was wearing and draped it across her shoulders. The second he did Bilba grabbed it, threaded her arms through the sleeves and started buttoning it up. The entire time she kept her head down and her gaze focused somewhere around her husband’s waistline.

Once she had the shirt done up, she grabbed his hand and pressed it to the slight bulge in her stomach, feeling her body relax as she did. “You remember how your mother said it was tradition for female wolves to confine themselves to the den for the duration of their pregnancies?”

“Hmmm,” he said. He leaned back one one hand, keeping his other in place on her stomach. “And you said something about it being an archaic, sexist tradition?”

Bilba flinched and her shoulders sagged. She had been that harsh, hadn’t she? She reached up to wipe at an errant tear, only for him to catch her hand and press his lips to her knuckles. The contact brought an even greater sense of peace and she sighed. “Maybe it wasn’t so archaic after all.”

He chuckled. “Panicked did you?” When she didn’t respond he sat up and wrapped both arms around her, pulling her close. “Bilba, listen to me. You’re a predator who also happens to be pregnant. That makes you vulnerable, and it makes perfect sense that the wolf inside you would want to be as safe as possible.”

“Which means staying near my pack,” Bilba mumbled, “and my mate.”

Fili bounced his legs, and she lifted her head to glare at him only to have him lean forward and kiss her. She dug her hands into her forearms and leaned in.

“I’m sorry,” he said a few moments later, pulling away and resting his forehead against her. “I shouldn’t have gone to that study group.”

“Yes, you should have,” Bilba said. It wasn’t like he’d abandoned her. Kili had been there after all. “I shouldn’t have been so stubborn.” She scowled. “Your mother is never going to let me live it down.”

Fili laughed. “My Mom loves you, she’ll only hold it over your head at holidays and birthdays.”

Bilba gave a weak smile and settled more onto his lap. “What am I going to do? I can’t even go to class without panicking.”

She didn’t even want to think how to try and explain how she’d acted in class and outside. They’d probably label her a freak.

“We’ll make sure more pack members are around you,” Fili said, moving his hands to rest on her hips. “They can audit your classes. I’ll be there as much as I can too.

“This seems to help too,” Bilba said absently, tugging at his flannel. “I may just have to start wearing your clothes.”

Fili grinned brilliantly. “You cannot begin to imagine how little problem I have with that.”

“We should get back.” Her last words were cut off with a yawn and Bilba shook her head in a futile attempt to wake herself up. Running all night was really catching up with her. “Everyone will be worried.”

“We aren’t getting back anytime soon.” Fili gently slid her off his legs and onto the ground before laying down next to her on his side. Bilba immediately scooted up as close to him as she could and looped an arm around his waist. “We might as well take a nap first.”

BIlba nodded, already half asleep. She felt him slide his arm under his head and took the opportunity to snuggle in even closer.

Her last thought was that, as soon as winter break arrived, she was dragging her husband’s clothes, and her husband, to bed and keeping them there until the next term started.

It’d allow her to rest, and avoid having to hear Dis say, “I told you so” at the same time.

Perfect.


	4. Awkard Waitress Bilba/Fili

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what! I got my schedule for next month and my work isn't trying to kill me! WOOT! And I've almost got most of the rest of the crazy stuff sorted out so regular updates should hopefully be resuming soon! YAYS!
> 
> Request Prompt From: StrictlyNoFrills - https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrictlyNoFrills/pseuds/StrictlyNoFrills
> 
> In the meantime, please enjoy this writing prompt! I've started doing Writing  
Wednesday on Tumblr (complete with awesome mood boards) and I accept prompt ideas to write from people. You all can also submit prompt ideas in the comments here for future Writing Wednesdays (one at a time so it may take a bit but I'll get there!). All ideas must be T rated or lower, and I prefer FemBilba/Durin of your choice romance as that's my jam, but I'm willing to consider other pairings/ ideas if it interests/inspires me enough. :D You can also request "deleted scenes" from any of my stories, complete or in progress, as well as alternate/extra scenes. Always wanted to see what X was doing while Y was doing something else? Ask away! Wanted to see X scene from Y's perspective? Ask away! Wondered what happened/would have happened in XYZ situation? Ask away! In the meantime, please enjoy! :D

"Look out!"

Bilba barely had time to register the words before a short, hyperactive blur darted across her path. She sucked in her gut and twisted, simultaneously lifting the two full trays she'd been carrying in each hand.

As she did she crouched ever so slightly, trying to keep her movements as fluid and seamless as possible. On the trays two full glasses wobbled and Bilba tensed. Then they settled and she let out a slow breath in relief.

A smattering of applause came from a handful of patrons and Bilba took a careful, partial curtsey in gratitude. A few feet to the side, the small boy that had nearly caused her to trip had the good manners to look embarrassed. "Sorry."

"That's all right," Bilba said, keeping her voice modulated and soft. "Let's just leave the running for the playground in the future, okay?"

He nodded and resumed his trek toward the bathroom, still moving quickly but no longer in a full out run.

Bilba shook her head, struggling to ignore the way her legs wobbled beneath her, and resumed her trek into the restaurant's dim room. She'd never particularly cared for mood lightning before but was grateful for it today as the bags under her eyes were especially dark and makeup had done little to cover them entirely.

No one wanted a waitress who looked like she'd stepped out of a zombie movie.

She wound her way around glass topped wooden tables and chairs wrapped in plum colored leather, navigating pushed out chairs and sprawled personal belongings with ease.

Many of the tables were occupied with regulars and she greeted each with a bright smile as she set down appetizers, entrees, desserts and drinks. Quiet, relaxing music played over the low, steady flow of conversation and she saw more than one female guest slide off uncomfortable looking heels to sink sore toes into the plush carpeting.

Shire had been designed to be both upscale and cozy. Patrons could expect a high-class experience, but one where they also felt comfortable and relaxed. It was a place to bring a date, hold a business meeting, or just come and relax over a glass of wine after a long workday.

It'd be a perfect place to sleep too, Bilba thought, gazing with longing at the padded booths. She sighed and forced her eyes away, focusing instead on a familiar figure in a darkened booth at the back of the restaurant. Bilba saved him for last, in the hopes of being able to spend a minute or two speaking to him. As she sat his plate down he smiled up at her fondly. "And how are you doing tonight, my dear?"

Bilba glared at him. "Don't give me that, Gandalf."

The elderly man raised an eyebrow innocently. "Is there a problem?"

"You know darn well there is." Bilba gave into her fatigue just a little and slid into the booth across from him. Her head was pounding with the promise of a headache and she had that all over ache that was her body's way of telling her she should have gone to bed days ago. It had become almost a part of her over the past year and there seemed to be no getting used to it no matter how much coffee she drank.

She lowered her voice to a low hiss, not wanting to disrupt the other guests. "You didn't tell me everything about the new maitre d'."

The older man's other eyebrow slowly raised. "Did I not?" He lifted his wine glass and took a sip. "I'm certain I was quite thorough."

Bilba's glare deepened. Gandalf was an old family friend, and also one of the most prominent lawyers in the city. He'd been the one to convince her that trying to run Shire completely alone, filling the role of owner, manager, and maitre d' was simply insane. He'd offered to find her someone trustworthy and reliable to help with some of the workload, and she'd reluctantly agreed. 

A few weeks later he'd brought her a name. Fili Durin. Bilba had recognized the last name as belonging to the past owners of Arkenstone, an internationally known, high end restaurant. At its height people were making reservations a year or more in advance and, those lucky enough to get in and actually afford something, would be guaranteed to find themselves in the midst of the world's most famous and powerful people.

The last Durin owner, Thrain, had made a series of increasingly bad business decisions that, ultimately, had resulted in a hostile takeover by Smaug Drakestone. He was the owner of Drakestone Barbecue, a retail federation of chain, fast food restaurants. The day he'd taken over, he'd turned Arkenstone into the flagship for his chain, much to the public outcry of the culinary world.

The Durins, driven into near bankruptcy according to rumor, had faded from the public eye and gone unheard of by anyone for years, or at least before Gandalf had held up that slim file. Bilba had been impressed with his education and degree in both culinary arts and hospitality but had been far less enthralled with his lack of experience.

When she'd pointed that out to Gandalf the man had simply chuckled. "Are you sure you're the one to be making that judgement, my dear?"

The words had brought a flush of red to her cheeks, as well as an ego check. Bilba had never wanted to work in the restaurant industry and had taken little interest in Shire as anything more than a way to get free gourmet food whenever she wanted. She'd been going to school for a degree in creative writing when...everything had happened.

It had been a trial by fire for her, trying to learn what she needed to know to ensure her parent's dream didn't die with them, and there were certainly days where she couldn't say for sure if she was sinking or swimming.

Most days she was pretty sure it was the former.

"What the boy lacks in experience he makes up for in passion," Gandalf had said gently to ease the sting of his prior words. "Much like someone else I could name. Give him a chance. I have a feeling you won't be disappointed."

Bilba had agreed, trusting the other man to not steer her wrong.

It was a decision she both loved and deeply regretted at the same time.

"Has the boy not been doing a satisfactory job?" Gandalf asked now, brows pulling together in concern.

"On the contrary," Bilba mumbled. "He's done an amazing job."

More than amazing, really. Fili was the first one in and often the last one out. He manned the front desk, managed the staff, kept schedules up, and still somehow managed to learn the names of their patrons as well as their likes and dislikes. He had the uncanny ability to gauge a person's personality after a few seconds of speaking to them and organized the seating to ensure people were not seated next to personalities that would clash with their own. Shire's approval scores had gone up over 15% since he'd started, and the pressure on Bilba's shoulders had gone from crippling to simply overbearing.

Hell, she'd been averaging almost five hours of sleep a night, not taking into account this past week when Fili had been gone.

"Well," Gandalf asked in confusion. "If that's not the problem, my dear, then wha--"

His voice trailed off as a presence fell over them. Bilba felt her gut clench. Oh no. She'd forgotten he was supposed to be back that night.

"Ah, Mr. Durin," Gandalf said cheerfully. "What a pleasure to meet you again."

"The pleasure is mine," a familiar bass said and Bilba's insides literally begin to do a full on, Olympic style gymnastics routine. Bastards. "Miss Baggins--"

He didn't get a chance to say anything else as Bilba jumped to her feet, planning to...do...something...only to feel her hand smack into the tray she'd set on the edge of the table when she'd sat down.

The one she'd collected a few empty dishes and sets of cutleries on, intending to take it back with her.

In almost slow motion she watched as the entire tray flipped off the edge of the table. The loud clatter of knives, spoons and forks hitting the ground ripped through the serene atmosphere of the dining room, along with the unmistakable shattering of glass as the carpeting failed to save the three plates and near empty soup bowl as they impacted.

Most restaurants had tile floors for just such situations, Bilba found herself thinking irrationally as she watched the remnants of dark liquid soak into the tan covered fibers. Her parents had liked the carpet, insisting it gave a homier feel to the place. They hadn't minded having to deep clean the carpets on a near weekly basis to ensure they stayed looking their very best.

Bilba minded, very much. Particularly since, as of late, it had all been thanks to her that they needed to be cleaned to begin with.

Total silence fell over the restaurant, and Bilba felt her face catch fire. She focused on Fili's shoes, the black leather marred by drops of soup, and her heart sank.

"Sorry." She started to drop to her knees, only to stop as his hand closed lightly over her arm to stop her.

"Careful," he said mildly. "You don't want to kneel in broken glass."

Bilba's eyes flicked to his really intense, blue, eyes and an almost electric charge surged right through her. She straightened, fighting a wave of dizziness, and focused on the ground. It was the only way she could to avoid noticing his dark blond hair, or chiseled features, or the way his body filled out his suit -- and, really, who the hell decided maître d's had to _always _wear suits? Okay, so it wasn't like she _minded_, much, but she was like five seconds away from having a heart attack at any given moment so that _was _a problem and -- what was she doing again?

Oh, right, broken glass and humiliation and _he was still touching her_.

She jerked her arm free with a nervous laugh that she prayed didn't sound borderline hysterical or insane like it did in her head and knelt more carefully.

To her surprise, he knelt next to her. For the first time, she noticed he held the tray in his hand and she realized she hadn't heard the loud clang of it hitting. "Did you catch that?"

"An acquired trait," he said dryly, as he picked up utensils and the larger bits of broken glass. He sounded amused, or at least Bilba hoped he did.

He stood, and Bilba rose with him, closing her eyes this time and breathing through her nose to try and keep her feet. Fili handed her the tray with no small amount of trepidation. Bilba focused on broken bits and pieces of dishes on the tray and, before she could embarrass herself farther, spun and returned to the kitchen, past one of the other servers who was already headed to the area with a vacuum to finish cleaning.

***

Fili watched the young woman until she vanished through the swinging doors of the kitchen. She looked exhausted. She normally looked exhausted, but far more so tonight. Mentally, he kicked himself for having stayed away so long. He should have tried harder to get back earlier.

He sighed and turned back to the booth. He completely ignored the roar of the vacuum as it made quick work of the remaining broken glass and, around him, the rest of the room slowly followed his lead and returned to their own meals.

Once the clean up was finally done, he flashed a smile at Gandalf. "As I was saying, it's good to see you Mr. Grayson."

The older man looked positively delighted by something, and Fili's eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to figure out just what it was.

From the kitchen a second, loud, crash rang out and Fili closed his eyes, counted to five, and then opened them again. "I'm almost afraid to see how much we lost the last five days I was gone."

"I have a feeling you'll find it to be nothing at all," Gandalf said with amusement. "Bilba happens to be the best waitress Shire has."

Fili raised an eyebrow. "Is she?" he asked doubtfully.

"Indeed," Gandalf said. "In fact, she took over your place while you were gone."

There was the slightest hint of censure in his voice and Fili nodded with a grimace, remembering again the deep bags under her eyes. "My grandfather passed away unexpectedly and the funeral was out of town."

He'd been worried over even asking for the time off, funeral or not. He'd e-mailed, believing he could sound calmer and more professional, or at least that's what he'd told himself. In reality, he'd been cringing at the thought. He'd been there a month and was already asking for four days off? He'd expected his request to be rejected out of hand but, to his surprise, the response had been there when he'd awakened the next morning, granting him a full week off, with pay. 

"I wanted to thank you," he said now to Gandalf, "for taking a chance on me. I'm in your debt."

His entire family was. It had been a struggle after...everything had happened. They'd needed jobs, and fast, whatever was available that could keep them from losing the last few things they had. Fili had managed to get through college on grants and scholarships, hanging everything on his uncle's conviction that, one day, Arkenstone would rise again. His mother had been against it, having never loved the restaurant to begin with, but Fili had been raised hearing about Arkenstone and his uncle's dreams had quickly become his own.

It was only recently, _very _recently, that they'd had the luxury to begin thinking about the culinary and restaurant world again. Fili was the first to get a foot through that door, and the hope that had flared to life on his uncle's face upon hearing the news had made every moment of school, and every late night so far at Shire, worth it.

"While I'd like to take credit for it," Gandalf said. "It was Bilba who ultimately took the chance."

"Yes," Fili's eyes flickered toward the kitchen where the silence was beginning to worry him. A working kitchen was no place for someone as exhausted as she clearly was. "In any event, I'm grateful to you both."

"So it would seem." Gandalf's eyes narrowed in contemplation, and then he nodded toward the kitchen. "What do you think of Miss Baggins?"

Fili frowned. "She needs to take better care of herself," he said without hesitation. "She's no good to anyone, least of all herself, if she's near dead on her feet."

Again, a flash of guilt raced through him. Part of the reason he'd been hired was to take the burden off her. He made a mental note to work even harder to make up for the extra load she'd had to take on while he'd been gone.

"She cares deeply for her parent's legacy," Gandalf said. He seemed about to say something else but thought twice about it, and simply gave Fili a slight smile.

Taking the hint, Fili nodded and took his leave, not wanting the man's food to get cold.

He spent the rest of the evening managing the room, speaking to guests and politely ignoring the flirtatious grins of at least three young women. Once the last customer had left he oversaw clean up and closing, before walking several of the female servers out to their cars to ensure they weren't harassed in the parking lot. Security was on his mental list of things Shire could use but he hadn't felt it was his place to suggest it just yet.

Bilba hadn't reappeared since the incident earlier so, after he'd locked the front door, he headed toward the back hallway. The door to the main office was shut but there was a light shining out from underneath.

He hesitated, and then knocked lightly on it. When there was no response, he cleared his throat and said, "I just wanted to thank you for granting my time off request and assure you I don't plan to abuse the privilege. I know you took a chance on hiring me, and I intend to make you happy you did."

He flinched as soon as the words left his mouth. Happy you did? Mahal, could he be anymore cringey? He started to say something else, decided he'd said enough already, and nodded at the closed door. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow."

Mentally, he hoped she was in there taking the opportunity to catch up on sleep. He personally doubted it, but one could always hope.

***

On the other side of the door, Bilba stared down forlornly at the glass of wine she'd knocked over when Fili had knocked on the door. She hadn't realized anyone was still there so late, let alone _him_.

_Talk to him_, her internal voice had scolded as he spoke. _It's not hard. Just open your mouth and say something. Preferably not inane. Or cringey. _

_That _thought unfortunately conjured the memory of before he'd gone on vacation, when she'd managed to spill and entire pot of, thankfully, cold soup that had been on its way to being thrown out. On him. She'd managed to spill it, on him. _Then _she'd gone back to the larder to get some more...something...and walked in on Fili mid shirt change.

"Sorry," he'd said, with a low swear as she'd stumbled to a stop. "The only other place is the bathroom, and I didn't think patrons seeing the restaurant's maître d changing would be that professional."

Bilba was pretty sure the sight of him without a shirt on would cause a minor health crisis, but it would probably have not been the most professional thing to say.

Her eyes seemed to superglue themselves to his chest and, as much as her mind screamed at her, they were determined to stay just where they were.

_Look away, _Bilba's voice had screamed at her as her eyes had laser focused on his chest. _Look away! Or better yet, leave!_

She'd done neither, because she was a walking HR complaint, and he'd cleared his throat and slowly pulled his shirt closed. 

"Do you need something?" he'd asked and it had taken a _lot _for her not to tell him that, yes, she needed him to take his damn shirt back off.

Bilba groaned as the memory faded, along with Fili's footsteps as he walked away from the closed door.

She was a terrible boss. She wasn't her parents, or her grandparents before them. She had no training in how to run a restaurant, manage payroll, balance books or anything. Gandalf had helped her as he could, but he had his own business to run. He'd recommended she hire a new team after the old one had up and quit but she'd been hesitant to try. She literally knew _nothing_. If she chose the wrong people, they could literally destroy Shire, run it into the ground, steal it out from under her and she'd never known until it was too late.

Still...she chewed on her lower lip absently.

Gandalf had recommended Fili and, in the short time he'd been there, he'd been a godsend. Okay, he also _looked _like a god, which was not helping her heartrate or her supplies budget but, really, he'd taken such a massive burden off her just in the jobs he'd taken up.

She'd recognized it all over again in the week he'd been gone. When suddenly it was up to her once more and the full, crushing weight, had fallen back on her. She was so tired from it that she'd started crying on three separate occasions for no reason.

She didn't want to go back to that, wasn't sure how she'd done it for a year, and now she found herself desperately wanting to continue on the track she was on. To have less pressure, less work, more ability to sleep, or relax or enjoy..._anything _that wasn't work related.

She'd been mulling, just a little, about the rest of the Durin family. She remembered the stories, how one of the Durin children had nearly managed to save Arkenstone, would have in fact, had Smaug not swept in and cut it all out from under them. The whole family had been involved in the business, from childhood in most cases, and if even a fraction of them were as talented as Fili was...

She chewed on her lower lip and then opened her email. She'd hesitated to do it while he was gone at his grandfather's funeral, but perhaps now? She might not be able to talk to the man without tripping over herself, but she could at least email him, right?

Hopefully.

_Dear Mr. Durin,_

She paused. Was that too formal? It was probably too formal.

_Dear Fili --_

Nope.

_Mr. Durin,_

She sighed, deleted the email and closed the laptop lid. If she couldn't even figure out a salutation there was no reason to go any further. She crossed her arms and dropped her head on them with a groan. She was freezing cold in spite of knowing the temperature was perfectly temperate in the building, and she felt ill.

She was exhausted, in over her head, and couldn't even speak to her own damn employee.

God, she was pathetic. 

***

Fili didn't see Bilba when he arrived for work the next day. The light was still on under the office door, however, and he found himself hoping she hadn't been there since the night before. He had no idea how the girl managed to run the restaurant, work a shift and take care of the rest of her day to day life.

Then the memory of the deep bags under her eyes from the night before hit him and he realized the answer to his question of how she did it was probably simple. She didn't.

As he took up his position behind the front desk he snagged the attention of one of the other servers, an older woman named Carla. "Hey, is it true that Bilba ran the desk while I was out?"

She nodded. "She did it before you were hired too and did a fantastic job of it if I may say so. Only hired you because Gandalf convinced her to get someone before she passed out from exhaustion." She sent a concerned look toward the back office. "Girl takes far too much on her own plate. Her parents had a full staff, but she does it all by herself."

Fili frowned. "What happened to the staff?"

Carla huffed in annoyance. "Most refused to work for someone young and inexperienced, a couple others claimed it was too hard to work here without Belladonna and Bungo, as if it were a piece of cake for Bilba to do it." She shook her head. "Assholes, the lot of them."

Fili found he quite agreed. He settled into his role as the doors opened, and fell into an easy rhythm, one that wasn't interrupted until the sound of shattering glass from the bar signified Bilba had left her office.

A hand patted his and he raised an eyebrow at the elderly woman he'd been checking in. She was one of their regulars, coming in almost every day to simply enjoy the company of others. "You know, young man," she said in a voice shaky with age, "you really should do that poor girl a favor and take her out already."

Fili's eyebrow arched higher. "I beg your pardon?"

The woman nodded toward the bar. "Poor thing only gets shaky when you're around, you know." She patted his hand and winked at him from under her hat. "She's a good girl. Not like those hooligans that live across the street from me with their loud music."

She nodded again and wandered past him. Her companion, a man a few years older than Fili's uncle, smiled after her with affection. "Don't mind, Mother. She likes to play matchmaker from time to time is all."

Fili chuckled. "I don't mind at all, Sir. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to your seats."

The man nodded, and Fili led them to their table. As he returned to his desk he hesitated, and then deliberately veered toward the bar where Bilba was picking up a tray. It was ridiculous, he thought. She didn't get nervous simply because --

Bilba glanced up, spotted him and proceeded to drop the drink she'd been picking up. It hit the tray, which caused the other three drink to fall and crash onto the bar, liquid flooding the top and leaking down the sides to the floor below. 

Huh.

***

Bilba sat on a stool at the bar, head resting on her folded arms. She was in that state halfway between being asleep and awake where her body was heavy, and she felt like she had a bad case of the flu. The restaurant had closed a half ago earlier but the thought of trying to go home, or even just to her office to get started on paperwork was excruciating.

An arm slid around her waist suddenly, and she looked up with a frown just in time to see Fili as he slid an arm under her legs and proceeded to lift her straight up off the chair.

Bilba wrapped her arms loosely around his neck without thinking and shook her head in a futile attempt to clear it. She was so damn _tired_. "What an odd dream," she mumbled. She relaxed against him and shut her eyes again. She was dimly aware of being carried, and then settled into the seat of a car. "Noooo," she whined, reaching out. "I have to do payroll."

He knelt, one hand on the open door and the other on the edge of her seat. "You need sleep. You try to do payroll now and you're likely to pay everyone in Monopoly money."

Bilba giggled at the absurd mental image, and then groaned as her head began to pound. "I feel awful."

"Because you push yourself too hard." He stood up and shut the door. Through slitted eyes, Bilba watched him walk around the front of the car, _her _car, and slide into the driver's seat.

"Are you kidnapping me?" she asked suspiciously.

He chuckled, a low rumble, and then turned the key in the ignition, sending the engine roaring to life. "I'm taking you home." He grinned at her. "It's my job to ensure everyone has a pleasant experience at Shire, and that includes my boss."

Bilba grumbled and sank back into the seat, noting absently he'd somehow managed to buckle her in without her noticing. "I'm a sucky boss."

To her horror, her vision blurred, and she shook her head, trying to dispel them the threatening tears. She wasn't usually a crier. It's just a dream, she told herself. Figures she'd managed to screw things up with him in a _dream_.

"You're not screwing anything up," Fili said as they pulled onto the road. "You're too hard on yourself."

Bilba frowned at him. "Since when can you read minds?"

He chuckled. "You're talking out loud."

"I am not," Bilba grumbled. She sagged back in her seat. "I don't even know how to do payroll."

Fili's eyes flickered toward her, surprised. "Then how have you been doing it so far?"

"Google." Bilba raised a hand to wave through the air. "Google knows all."

"That it does." Fili focused on the road for a few minutes. "I might know someone who could help you in that."

"I'm sure you do." Bilba tried to focus on the road in front of them but it shifted in and out of focus. "I don't know anything about restaurants," she blurted. A few tears escaped on their own and she lifted a hand to wipe them away. She felt cold and shaky and, god, but she just wanted to sleep. "I'm such a screw up."

Fili grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "You are not a screw up. A screw up wouldn't be able to keep a restaurant like Shire running for as long as you have, knowing as little about the business as you do. You're just overwhelmed."

The walls of her gated community came into view and Bilba wondered idly how he'd known where she lived.

They pulled up to the gate, and a light shined on them as the guard inside stepped closer.

"Miss Baggins, are you all right?"

"Hi Bard," Bilba managed to mutter. This dream just kept getting weirder. She tried to curl up against the door, but it was next to impossible to get into a comfortable position and, damn it all if _that _didn't make her want to cry all over again. "I wanna go home now."

She heard a quiet conversation between Bard and Fili and then the guard opened the back door and slid into her car. Apparently, in this dream, she was collecting people like lost puppies.

She heard Fili laugh again but tuned it out in favor of dozing. She was vaguely aware of the car stopping, and then of being carried again. Her house alarm beeped and, when Fili set her on her feet and supported her, she hazily punched in the code to turn it off.

Then she was being carried again and then, blessedly, the sheets of her very own bed were under her. She felt her shoes being tugged off, and then the blankets were drawn over her.

She was sound asleep before they had fully settled.

***

Fili wordlessly followed the guard downstairs again, reset Bilba's alarm and then followed the other man out, locking the door and pulling it closed behind him.

He and Bard walked in silence back to the gatehouse and then Fili headed to the sidewalk just outside the gate pulling his phone out as he did. He dialed, and bit back a grin as a gruff voice answered. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"That I do," Fili leaned against the stone wall, bracing one foot behind him and shoving his free hand into his jacket pocket. "I need a ride."

"Why?" his uncle asked, already sounding more awake. "What happened to your car?"

"I had to give my boss a ride home," Fili answered. "I left my car back at Shire."

"Your boss?" Thorin questioned. "This the one you won't shut up about?"

Fili rolled his eyes. "You know she's trying to run Shire completely by herself?"

"She's insane then?" Thorin asked. "Your mother will be thrilled."

"She's not insane," Fili said, defensively. "She's just in over her head. Anyway, I think she might be open to hiring some more people. You know, people with actual restaurant experience. Managerial, bookkeeping, so forth."

"You talk to her about it?" Thorin asked.

As he did, Fili heard him grunt and swear under his breath as he struggled to get dressed and, most likely, find his shoes. He was always throwing them every which way and taking forever to locate them again. After a minute the phone call cut off entirely as his uncle hung up in frustration. Fili slid the phone into his pocket and leaned back against the wall to wait for the other man to arrive.

"No, he whispered, to no one in particular. "I haven't talked to her about it."

Not yet anyway, but he planned too. Maybe tomorrow, over a cup of coffee if she was willing.

Plastic cups of coffee.

Definitely plastic, and with a lid.


	5. It's A Wonderful Life Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt idea asking for a “It’s A Wonderful Life” style idea where Bilba is feeling down and gets shown what would have happened had she not gone on the quest. I decided to take it in a biiiiit of a different direction but I think it’s still the same idea! :D
> 
> Prompt Request From: StrictlyNoFrills - https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrictlyNoFrills/pseuds/StrictlyNoFrills
> 
> Extra Note: I got the idea for this version of Mahal from my beta Drenagon’s story “History Teaches Us” found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127568/chapters/2273724. I highly recommend it if you want a really good fic where Thorin is sent back to try again and get it right! :D

Bilba stood at the edge of a broken path, darkness stretching away beneath her feet, and slumped in defeat. Rain from the earlier storm pattered on her head, sending cold rivulets sliding down the collar of her dress. 

Her entire body felt like ice, but not enough to numb the pain in her feet because she hadn’t considered they might not be designed to trek through mountains full of sharp rock and bitterly cold ice. 

She was miserable and now she was stuck out here being rained on because she was _too stupid to remember the path was gone.  
_

Seriously, it had been like a half hour ago, and she’d _been there_. She’d _watched _the stone giants fighting, had nearly been _killed _by them for Yavanna’s sake and yet, here she was, like an idiot thinking the path was going to just miraculously put itself back so she could trek down it. 

Words ran through her mind, as biting in memory as they had been when she’d heard them out loud. 

“_She’s been lost ever since she left home. You should never have come. You have no place among us.”  
_

Bilba flinched and clenched her jaw as pressure built between her eyes. Wouldn’t that just be wonderful, if they were to come out and see her weeping in the rain?

What had she been thinking? That she was off on a lark? That she’d skip along picking flowers and stopping for picnics along the way? For Yavanna’s sake, she’d worn a _dress_. No wonder Thorin thought so little of her. She’d given him more than enough cause. 

Kili’s face floated through her mind and she closed her eyes and bit back a groan_. _She could still remember her excitement running out the door of Bag Eng, fantasies of love and adventure filling her head. 

She’d had visions of riding next to Kili and entertaining him with witty dialogue during the day and impressing him with her cooking in the evening. She’d catch him watching her out of the corner of her eye and would smile coyly and then pretend to be interested in the way ahead while all the while sneaking peeks back at him. 

That had been her fantasy. In reality, she’d given no thought to the fact that she’d never ridden a horse in her life, or that the Company hadn’t hired her as a cook, because they already had one. 

She’d also never given any thought to the fact that Kili might give her no particular notice. 

At all. 

As far as he was concerned, she might as well not have existed. 

At least until tonight when he couldn’t have helped but her hear his uncle’s scathing dismissal of her.

She was pretty sure the entire mountain had heard. 

She opened her eyes and curled her hands into fists. There was no way, just _no_ way she was letting them come out and find her out here. There was no way she was going back either, to face the long months ahead as an outcast, unwanted, unneeded. 

Unnecessary. 

She took a deep breath and then, carefully, started to shuffle toward the wall of the mountain. There was a small shelf of rock still there, barely a strip of jagged, uneven stone jutting out from the mountain. 

She reached where it started, and felt her stomach curdle inside her. 

At its thickest point, the path was probably little wider than her foot, and that was being generous. 

For the briefest of seconds, she considered giving it up. Returning in defeat to the cave and putting up with their disregard and disgust until they got to a point where she could somehow find her own way back. 

She shook her head at the thought almost immediately. Just the thought of alone made her want to die of humiliation, there was simply no way she could suffer through it in reality. 

She steadied her nerves, and took a step out onto the ledge. She pressed her body against the wall, fingers splayed against the rock, and tried to keep her eyes focused on the far side of the path. 

Don’t look down, she told herself firmly. Just focus on the other side. 

Something boomed over her head and she froze. Please be thunder, she thought desperately. Please be thunder. 

The mountain, thankfully, stayed where it was and she tried to relax. She started to slide her foot out another step, stomach turning flips as loose rock and shale slid out from under her toes. 

She edged her foot out just a little more…and the shelf crumbled away from under her. 

She froze, and her brain locked, paralyzed with terror. In almost slow motion she felt her body slip backwards from the rock. As if watching from somewhere else she saw her fingers scrabble to find purchase against stone she was no longer touching. 

Her stomach dropped.

Distantly, she thought she heard someone scream her name but the sound was lost to the roar of the wind past her ears. 

And then she was falling.

***

She was falling.

And then she wasn’t. 

Bilba stood in blank confusion, eyes so wide it almost hurt, breaths coming in short, harsh pants. Her heart was racing so fast she feared it would give out, and she was trembling violently. 

She was standing in a small grove of trees she didn’t remember being at the base of the mountains. The trees were in bloom, light pink flowers dusted in snow. A bright sun shone down from a brilliant blue sky, lighting fat flakes of snow swirling about her. Most snow mounded under the trees and beneath her feet. Her breath frosted when she breathed, but she didn’t feel cold. 

Bilba crossed her arms nervously. Was this it? Had she died and this was what came after? 

Her lips pursed and she swallowed thickly. 

She hadn’t wanted to die. 

She’d wanted to go home, sit in her chair again and forget she’d ever tried to go on an adventure where no one wanted her around. She could just imagine the disgust on their faces when they realized she’d gone and managed to get herself killed like an idiot. Especially Thorin. He’d probably –

“Greetings, daughter of Earth.”

Bilba shrieked, not only because the voice came from behind her without warning, but also because it sounded very much like Thorin’s. 

It would be just her luck that she’d get herself killed and somehow end up in an afterlife populated by doubles of Thorin Oakenshield. 

She whirled around, and let out an audible sigh of relief at the sight of a Man standing behind her. He was tall, as Men tended to be, with long dark hair and a powerful build. In those areas he did remind her of dwarves, but not _that _dwarf thankfully, and also not the one she’d been foolishly pining for, which was also nice. 

Suddenly realizing that she was simply staring at him, Bilba shook herself out of her own thoughts, and forced a smile. “Greetings. Could you possibly tell me where I am?”

Please don’t say the afterlife, she thought. Please don’t say the afterlife. 

The man’s eyes narrowed and his mouth quirked as if in some private amusement. “Where do you think you are?”

“I really can’t say,” Bilba confessed. She was beginning to calm down as she spoke to him, her heart slowing and and her shivering easing. There was something strangely non-threatening about the Man, in spite of him being a complete stranger. 

She looked up, planning to show him where she’d fallen from, only to freeze in shock. 

There was no mountain. 

Over her head all she could see was the tops of trees and blue sky, stretching for miles in every direction. 

“Is there a problem?” the man asked, voice casual.

Heart back to to thundering in his chest, Bilba turned her attention back to him. “I’m dead, aren’t I?” she asked. A sick feeling settled in her gut, along with renewed despair. 

She really hadn’t been able to do anything right, had she?

“Are you?” the man asked. “Do you feel dead?”

Bilba frowned at him. “I don’t – I’ve never been dead before. I wouldn’t know how it felt.” She hesitated. “It would seem I’m not where I was before, though, and that doesn’t seem very encouraging.”

“Hmmm,” the man looked around himself, taking in their surroundings. “I would say this is a far cry better than where you were a moment ago, wouldn’t you, Bilba Baggins?” With the last he turned to look her directly in the eyes and Bilba felt her heart stutter in her chest. 

“How do you know my –” Her eyes widened and she dropped to her knees immediately, head down. “My apologies, my Lord. I didn’t recognize you.”

She _still _didn’t recognize him to be honest. There were multiple male Valar and she couldn’t remember enough about them to know them on sight. She’d always been more concerned with Yavanna, and why in the world wasn’t _she _there?

Perhaps, Bilba thought, because she was so useless that not even Yavanna wanted to see her and instead had foisted the task on…her…husband?

Mahal?

“Rise, child,” the Valar said, amused. “And, worry not. My wife isn’t here because you are, in fact, not dead. At least not yet.”

BIlba’s head jerked up and hope rushed through her. “Really?”

“Really,” Mahal said dryly. He indicated and Bilba quickly scrambled to her feet, dusting the snow off her skirts in an attempt to look at least a little presentable. 

She looked at him expectantly, but he merely raised an eyebrow in return. After the silence stretched for several long, awkward minutes, she cleared her throat and timidly asked, “So, um, can I ask what’s going on?”

“What do you think is going on?”

Oh, great, Bilba thought, it was worse than trying to talk to Gandalf. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but here they were. 

“I don’t know.” She tried to sound polite, she really did. “I fell off a cliff on my way back home and –” she swept out her arms to indicate their current surroundings. “And you say I’m not dead–” yet, he had said yet but she decided to overlook that part, “so I’m not really sure what’s going on.”

Mahal nodded his head to the side. “Walk with me, child.”

He started off without waiting and Bilba hustled forward to fall in alongside him. 

“Why were you returning home?” Mahal asked without preamble. 

Bilba’s shoulders sagged and she clasped her hands in front of her. “Because I’m useless,” she said softly, “and no one even wanted me there.”

“Is that so?” Mahal mused. “And if I were to tell you that, without your presence to distract the trolls, three of your number would have been killed before Olorin arrived?”

Bilba’s eyebrows drew together. “Olorin?”

“Gandalf,” he clarified. 

“Oh.” Bilba focused on her feet where they were scuffing through the snow. “In that case, I’m glad I could help, but it doesn’t mean I was of any real use overall, or that I would be. Thorin was right. I shouldn’t have come.”

Mahal sighed. “Thorin tends to be one of my more stubborn children, but he carries much upon his shoulders. His people starve while he tries to secure their future.”

“I didn’t know that.” Bilba felt a rush of sympathy for the surly dwarf. 

“And still he tries, even after those who owe him their loyalty refuse to help.” Mahal’s eyes turned hard, and Bilba felt a bite to the air for the first time. “Their actions will not be forgotten.”

Bilba was suddenly very glad she wasn’t one of the dwarven lords who’d refused to help Thorin in his quest. “I didn’t realize it was so very important,” she confessed quietly. “I’m happy I was able to help with the trolls, but I’m sure my leaving now is for the best. I’d have only been a burden, and they can’t have that on a quest this important.”

“Is that so?” Mahal frowned, eyes fixed on some empty spot in the distance. “Would you like to see how things will happen without you there?”

Bilba was taken aback. “Would things change that much? I can’t have been very important.”

“So you say,” Mahal countered, “and yet I have just told you what would have happened if you’d been absent during the encounter with the trolls.”

“Sure,” Bilba said nervously, “but that was just a lucky thing. Being useful once doesn’t mean I’d be useful again. I doubt they’d even notice if I was gone.”

Her mind went back to Kili again and the way he’d stared after the female elves in Rivendell. He’d never looked at her that way. She might as well have been a fellow male for all he took notice of her, no matter how much effort she tried to take in her appearance. 

“Would they?” Mahal asked quietly. 

He waved a hand, and the landscape in front of them simply…melted away as if it had never been there. 

Instead she found herself staring into the foyer of Bag End as her past self, ran to answer the front door. 

It hadn’t been all _that _long ago, but it felt like another lifetime. Almost as if the young woman she was watching was someone else entirely. 

Her past self jerked the door open to reveal Fili and Kili standing on the other side. Bilba remembered his part _very _well. She’d been dazzled by Kili almost immediately and had started stammering and acting like an idiot, struggling to look both cute and alluring at the same time. 

She’d thought, at the time, she’d done a good job. Now, looking at it from the outside, she could see she looked awkward and silly. Kili appeared to take no particular notice, breezing past her as if she weren’t even there. 

Fili took the time to stop and talk to her, and Bilba mentally cringed at how dismissive she was toward him, eyes instead following Kili as he wandered off toward the kitchens. 

The scene shifted to the next day when she’d run after the Company and Fili and Kili helped her into a saddle. She’d been enamored with the fact that Kili had touched her, however so briefly, and had simply stared at the spot on her arm, trying to convince herself that it meant something. 

Yet again, as she watched from the outside, she saw something she hadn’t seen the first time. Fili trying to speak to her, only to give up when it became clear she wasn’t listening. 

After this the images sped up, scene after scene of Fili ensuring she got food before he did, helping her on her pony, riding beside her and keeping her company, and then quietly backing away any time Kili approached. 

Bilba flinched, remembering their time in Rivendell when Fili had invited her on a walk and they’d spent a pleasant afternoon seeing all the sights in the area. It was only now, with the scenes stitched together, that she realized he’d only invited her after she’d expressed excitement over being there and a desire to see everything. 

Bilba had been aware of Fili during their time on the quest. He was a friend, someone easy to talk to and fun to spend time with. Watching the scenes as Mahal was showing her, revealed another level she hadn’t even been aware of. 

Fili had been _interested _in her. 

At least at first. He’d been trying to approach her, _court _her. 

And she, in turn, had spent all her time fawning over Kili who hadn’t given her the time of day. Fili had clearly caught on, and had politely dropped back to not just being a friend, but to actively trying to help and encourage her when it came to her infatuation with his brother. 

And she’d never even noticed. 

“It would seem at least one would have noticed,” Mahal mused. 

“So it would appear,” Bilba agreed in a low whisper. 

Guilt assailed her for how often she’d simply dismissed or outright ignored him the second Kili had shown up. She’d treated him as an afterthought, and he’d taken it all with quiet grace and continued to treat her as a dear friend. 

Her mother would have been ashamed of her behavior. 

The scenes faded, Fili along with it, and left her simply standing back in the snow lit woods. 

Bilba wasn’t sure how to feel. On the one hand, it was nice to realize at least one dwarf would have missed her. 

Bofur’s face as he’d said good-bye to her flashed through her mind and she flinched again. 

Two. Two would have missed her. 

“And perhaps more,” Mahal said in a low voice next to her. “Only one was cruel to you and, though there is no excuse for bad behavior, I have found mortals are apt to speak rashly in moments of high stress.”

Bilba grimaced, moments when she’d spoken without thought coming easily to mind. It didn’t mean she felt Thorin was justified, or that he didn’t owe her an apology, but it did help her understand a little more at least. 

They were both mortal, and sometimes they said things they shouldn’t. Thorin certainly didn’t want her there, but if she were being honest, he had cause. She _wasn’t _prepared for any of this, had no idea why Gandalf had chosen her of all people to join. 

“I was running away,” she whispered, focused on her hands where they were clasped in front of her. “It’s been so much harder than I thought it would be.” 

“And yet you’ve already come so far,” Mahal responded. “You’ve done splendidly, and managed to save three of their lives, whether they know it or not.”

BIlba gave a weak smile as the words sent a warm feeling through her. 

That feeling was dispelled a moment later when Mahal’s expression turned grave. “Would you like to know how things will go without you?”

Bilba felt uneasy, but nodded. “Okay.”

It couldn’t be that bad, after all, could it? How much difference could one, small hobbit make? Thorin was a capable warrior in his own right, and had an entire contingent behind him. Perhaps she’d been wrong about her absence going unnoticed, but that didn’t mean her presence would make any sort of actual difference to the quest. 

Really, Gandalf had claimed they needed a burglar when they already had Nori who actually knew what he was doing. Why in the world Gandalf had seen fit to add someone else, and someone like her who was wildly ill equipped for _anything _that didn’t involve her garden, kitchen or library was beyond her. 

Mahal nodded…and her mind shattered. 

Images, and sensations flooded her, overwhelming over. 

_Bitter cold.  
_

_A single, lonely peak silhouetted against an empty sky.  
_

_A massive, baleful eye.  
_

_Fire._

_The roar of an army flooding across a plain.  
_

_The sharp gasp of a last breath.  
_

_Screams.  
_

_“Go back to your books, and your armchair. Plant your trees, watch them grow. If more people valued home above gold … this world would be a merrier place.“_

_Her own gut wrenching sobs.  
_

_Silent forms laid out on slabs.  
_

_Death.  
_

Bilba staggered and fell to her knees. Her breath was ragged, and her throat burned as if she’d been screaming. 

She lifted a trembling hand to her face and felt the wetness of tears streaming down. Her heart thundered in her chest, and her head pounded with a truly spectacular headache. 

Mahal knelt in front of her and Bilba looked up at him in shock. “They _die_? All _three _of them?” And that was only part of it. Yavanna, the fire on the lake, and the _army_…so much death. She shook her head. “You can’t possibly be suggesting I can change any of that?”

“Why not?” Mahal asked. “Even the smallest person can change the course of the world. Many of the heroes you read about in your books were but one person, set out on a great adventure.”

Bilba scrubbed her hands aggressively over her face. She settled back on her heels and took a shuddering breath. “What do you want me to do?”

Mahal put a hand on her shoulder. “The question, my dear, is what do _you _want to do?”

Bilba pushed to her feet. “Are you saying I could still go home?”

“If you wish.” Mahal had stood to face her. “If you so desire, you can be back in Bag End, safe and warm and surrounded by your books.”

Bilba crossed her arms. Right then, the stench of blood in her nostrils and the echo of screams in her ears, going home sounded exactly like what she wanted to do. 

Just…go home and crawl into her bed, hide under the covers and go to sleep. Then, maybe, tomorrow she’d brew herself a nice pot of tea, find a good book and go out to the bench outside her backdoor. 

She’d sit down, and open her book…and spend the rest of the day feeling the heat of fire as it scorched through buildings. Feel the tremor under her as thousands of feet marched upon the earth. Picture the Durins marching to their deaths. 

Sweet, kind Fili. 

Exuberant, funny Kili. 

Even Thorin for all his stubbornness and irritation still commanded her respect in other ways. His love for his nephews. The loyalty he’d so clearly earned from those following him. His desire to regain Erebor for his people. 

She didn’t want to see them die. 

She shut her eyes and tightened her arms until she was hugging herself. “I can save them? All of them?”

“Perhaps,” Mahal said, his voice toneless. “Is that your choice then? To try and save them?”

Bilba took a deep breath and then opened her eyes. Fear curdled low in her gut, but there was a fire in her eyes and her voice was steady when she spoke. “Yes. Please, send me–”

***

The shelf crumbled away from under her..

Her body froze, and her brain locked, paralyzed with terror. In almost slow motion she felt her body slip backwards from the rock. As if watching from somewhere else she saw her fingers scrabble to find purchase against stone she was no longer touching. 

Her stomach dropped as she began to fall away. 

A hand grabbed the edge of her skirt and yanked, hard. Her body flew to the side, and an arm wrapped around her waist and wrenched her back. 

She landed, not on hard rock but a firm body, arms closed tightly around her waist. 

She twisted enough to look up and found herself looking at Fili who, in turn, had his head back and his eyes heavenward while he tried to catch his breath. As if sensing her gaze, his eyes flicked to hers. “Are you all right?”

Bilba nodded shakily. Fili let out a sigh of relief and then began to struggle to a seated position. They were pretty well tangled together and, at one point, Bilba found herself quite firmly seated on his lap with her face mere inches from his. 

His eyes widened and he flushed. “Sorry,” he said quickly, putting his hands to her waist to move her off. “I’m –”

The last bit was cut off in an “oof” as Bilba lunged forward and threw her arms around him, hugging him. The images Mahal had shown her – the look in his eyes as a blade was driven through him, the grief that had washed over her at the sight of him laid out on a slab – ran through her mind and she hugged him tighter. 

“Hey,” he said softly, completely misunderstanding the reason for her upset, “it’s okay.” He hugged her back just as tightly. “You’re all right.”

Bilba buried her face in her arms, and against his neck. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have left. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Fili urged her back and took her face in his hands. “It’s fine. I just wish you’d have said something. If you’d wanted to go home, I’d have been happy to take you.” His mouth quirked into a self-deprecating smile. “Or perhaps I could have convinced Kili.”

“I don’t want your brother to take me,” Bilba muttered. “I’m not interested in him anymore.” She laughed quietly. “He made it pretty clear he isn’t interested. I just wasn’t listening.”

Fili went still. “Is that so. Decided to give up on romantic entanglements?”

Bilba smiled at the clumsy attempt to ask her a question without actually asking her a question. She met his eyes, and was mildly surprised at the flutter that ran through her stomach. Perhaps she hadn’t been as immune to him as she’d once thought. Perhaps she just hadn’t been paying attention. “I don’t know yet,” she said shyly, “but I’m open to possibilities.”

Fili grinned broadly. He gently moved her off his lap, got up and helped her to her feet. It was still raining, and Bilba didn’t resist as he took her hand to lead her back to the cave. The rock was wet and slippery and she didn’t relish the thought of falling for a second time. 

Besides, she thought as she put her shoulders back and lifted her chin. She _couldn’t _fall. 

People needed her. 

She wouldn’t let them down. 

***

In midair, invisible to the mortal eye, Aule stood and watched as one of his children led the young hobbit back to the temporary safety of the cave. 

A figure stepped beside him and he nodded his head respectfully. “Father.”

“You might be surprised,” Eru started without preamble, “to learn that the pattern has changed and the line of Durin is no longer fated to end at Ravenshill.”

“Is that so?” Aule asked innocently.

Eru gave him a look of pure exasperation. “You were meant to show her what would happen if she went home, not what would happen either way.”

“I did show her what would happen if she wasn’t there,” Aule explained. “In that battle she would have been knocked unconscious early on, hence, not there.” Eru gave him a look that was decidedly not amused and Aule held his arms out helplessly. “It was that or listen to Durin endlessly complain about the end of his line.”

“How is it,” Eru asked, “that he even found out?”

“He may have overhead me discussing it with my wife.” Aule gave an unrepentant grin and Eru shook his head. 

“You’re fortunate you did not change things for the worse,” he said with affection. 

“I should have changed them for the better,” Aule said hopefully. “The ring will be far closer to Mordor when the time comes, and Frodo Baggins and his friends will be untouched by Sauron’s evil.”

Eru was silent, contemplating. Aule had no doubt that not _every _change would be positive, and he hoped Eru would be willing to adjust things to get the desired results, and not simply insist it all be put back to the way it had been. 

After a second, Eru sighed. “I’m far too lenient with you.”

Aule grinned brilliantly, and then he was alone. He stayed where he was a few minutes later, watching as the hobbit reached the cave with her young dwarf. Idly, he wondered how long it would take for them to learn they were each other’s Ones. 

Or that the relationship was a gift, meant to strengthen her for the trials to come. 

“Stay strong, little hobbit,” he whispered after her as she vanished from sight. “You will need it for the days ahead.”

Then he was gone, and all that was left was the wind howling through the crevices, and the patter of rain upon the rocks.


End file.
